leave the light on

The lateness of the night is a friend as I work away, not on my duties, but on my loves. They asked me for a love song and I laughed in their face; I write those all the time but rip them up or cast them away into fields of lavender as those I write them for melt away.

I'm still alone at night, waking up with my faithful teddy bear cuddled in my arms, my pocket watch ticking away the minutes as I stretch and yawn. And now I wonder, wonder why I'm waiting the way I am. I fill my minutes usefully - mostly - with my degree and my avocations and still I catch myself dreaming of a "him" to talk to, to listen to, to be with.

I think I think too much.

My dreams push others away, not because they're all-consuming but because they're mine and I have them and I won't let them go so that I can fit in my pigeonhole. I'm still learning the rules to this game, but I have all the time in the world and I won't settle for anything less than happiness.

Through my window I see the lit up glass staircase belonging to the hospital, and I admire it, that crystalline green light shining like a beacon against the night. Streetlights stand before it and I gaze over their orange pools, pretending they lead to roads that I know not of and hold treasures and alluring curves and bends, hiding the future from those who travel them.

I wonder if I'll ever meet anyone who sees what I see?

I wonder...can you see me?